Karthi, Arvind Swami shine in this delightful ode to nostalgia and longing

In the second act MeiyazhaganKarthi makes an observation to his cousin about the concept of the past: “Idhu irandha kaalama? Illa, naama kadandhu vandha kaalam (Is our past something that has passed away? No, it is something that we once experienced).” This riveting conversation between Karthi’s character and Arulmozhi Varman (the excellent Arvind Swami) may be about Chola kings – the delightful irony of a man explaining Chola history to another man named Arulmozhi Varman is not lost on us – but it holds an important key to understanding the heart of the film itself. Yes, we look back at the past with nostalgia, but C. Premkumar Meiyazhagan it is also beautiful proof that the “dead” past has a kind of “aliveness” to it – how certain moments in the past made it possible for certain realities to exist in the present.

Simply put, Meiyazhagan revolves around Arulmozhi Varman, who tries to banish thoughts of his past and at the same time relive it. He is a cricket coach who lives a full life in Chennai with his daughter, his wife (Devadarshini has gorgeous looks), two aging parents and a house full of pets and parrots. But his thoughts often wander to the past – the glory days of living in the sprawling family home in Thanjavur and the bitter sibling rivalry that ultimately wrested the property from their hands. When Arulmozhi is forced to return to his hometown more than two decades later, he is forced to revisit the past and learn new things about himself.

Now the mentioned past takes on different forms that Arulmozhi can navigate – Kutti, the beloved temple elephant he was fond of as a child, a bus conductor who once studied under his father now gives him life advice, and an uncle (Rajkiran) who reminds him his childhood. However, the biggest reality check and (reminder of the past) for Arulmozhi is the character of a mysterious man who knows every little detail about him, someone about whom Arul knows nothing, including his name. Karthi is brilliant as the mysterious man – an unnamed young man related to Arul through his mother’s family – who sticks by his side from the moment he sees him at the wedding.

Karthi is everything that shy Arul is not. He has a big mouth (from a local kadda tea master to a caterer anywhere, there’s not one he doesn’t know) but an even bigger heart. It would be easy to make him out to be the village idiot, as he’s someone who harmlessly looks at your phone while you’re texting, and someone who asks potentially inappropriate questions like “one or two?” when you ask him for directions to the toilet. But Karthi brings so much warmth and naivety to the character that you immediately want to be friends with him. Or at least try to protect him from the world.

Prem Kumar’s freedom in writing is evident in his characters. We have a bride (Swathi Konde) who opens a gift from her brother on their wedding day – a scene that will throw you into a puddle, a flower shop (Raichal Rabecca) who follows a guilt-ridden man waiting for his 5 a.m. bus, and a catering company who, along with shares funny secrets with kasi halwa. Prem Kumar constructs a world we want to climb into, people we want to meet and shake hands with. DOP Mahendiran Jayaraju’s pauses and slow motion are intentional and moving, painting Arulmozhi’s world in intimate, quiet strokes.

The first half is filled with moments of joy, fueled mainly by Arulmozhi’s unawareness about Karthi’s identity. But that same stupidity turns into a form of knotty guilt when Arulmozhi realizes the extent of his friend’s kindness and how it can be linked to his own past acts of kindness. Like a cozy book that you want to read again immediately after reading it, Meiyazhagan it has moments that you want to watch again immediately. Govind Vasantha’s wonderful music is the perfect accompaniment in such moments.

The film quickly moves from a dreamlike first half to a more sober and slow approach in the second half, which doesn’t always work. But we also see why this was important to the filmmaker, because these are also moments that establish the class difference between Arulmozhi and Karthi. The former’s privilege is brilliantly highlighted in a scene where he compares his love for his family home to Karthi’s cycle, not realizing that the cycle was hijacked.

But like any conversational movie, among all the important events and conflicts in this movie, it’s these little moments between characters that stand out. It’s also a film that shows that misty eyes aren’t just reserved for romantic tragedy. Premkumar shows us the pain and longing for the forgotten – friendships, family ties, a simpler life that we so desperately want to live again.

If there’s something Sruthi loves more than watching movies, it’s writing about it. Sruthi Ganapathy Raman’s words can also be read in Film Companion, Scroll.in and The Times of India.

Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any business relationships with the film’s producers or other cast and crew members.